I Saw a House Burn - Jan. 8, 2026

I roll down my window

fire engines’ lights twirl like

a pair of winning slot machines

exploding wood reminds me of

firecrackers, set off at once

my nostrils are the first to pull back

and I taste it too, smoke flavored

with burned sofa and curtains

varnish from wood floors

creosote from shingles

heat pushes on my face, the

flipping burgers on a grill kind,

except this piece of meat

burns so badly there is

black snow falling

two figures holding each other up,

stand in front on the house

I see fluffy slippers and a blanket,

silhouetted in the glowing embers

the faces I can’t see

and as I slowly drive away

I stare in the rear view

mirror one last time

and thank my good fortune

for dodging this kind of tragedy

one last bitter swallow of sadness

and superstitiously, don’t look back again